


We Need to Find a Better Way to Communicate With Each Other

by AshPuma, existence_is_a_state_of_mind



Category: Eddsworld, Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Eddsworld - Freeform, Fluff, Gay, Kidnapping, M/M, OCs - Freeform, There might be some Edd x Matt in the future, Tord has a cool eye, Tord kidnaps Tom, a lil of Tom x Edd maybe too, abuse - like slaps or whatever, after the end part 2, everyone is sad, he doesn't think its cool, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-19 01:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8183494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshPuma/pseuds/AshPuma, https://archiveofourown.org/users/existence_is_a_state_of_mind/pseuds/existence_is_a_state_of_mind
Summary: Tom has heard of all sorts of types of revenge.But he hadn't even considered kidnapping as revenge until he found himself caught up in it.________________________________________________________________________________________________________"Maybe if my aim had been a little better..."Please don't say it.""All of us would be a lot happier.""I know!" He winced and gave up trying to escape. "I know, I know..." He echoed and closed his eyes, finally allowing those tears to meet with their sweet relief of freedom "I'm sorry," The pain around his wrist was growing numb. Was Tom going to ruin this arm too? That would be okay if he did. He deserved that. He deserved this all.





	1. In which Tom is kidnapped by two impolite strangers

It seemed slightly unfair to have been bagged and kidnapped by two uniformed strangers when Tom had just made dinner for himself.

Despite, the overall lack in pleasure of being forced outside of his own apartment, he'd rather they'd have done it after he ate.

With each shaky breath, he crinkled his nose. Who knew that breathing into a bag tied from your neck would be so uncomfortable? Now sitting in the stiff chair, Tom anxiously awaited any sound to reassure him that he wasn't already dead and in a coffin. And oh no, now he's worried himself even more. What were Matt and Edd thinking? Well, Matt never thinks but maybe Edd could offer some hope. Surely they heard him grunting and squirming indignantly as he was being blindly dragged down the hallway of their apartment building - or maybe they confused it for his normal annoyed attitude. Curse his pessimistic behavior!

Slam. 

The sound of a door closing sends chills up Tom's back. He concluded that someone either was here the entire time and just left or someone just walked in and closed the door behind them. What a fun little parody of "Guess Who" 

"What are we supposed to do?" A female voice mumbles.

Well that answers that question.

"I don't know, I thought he gave you the instructions." Replies a man's voice. Tom's insides churn at the familiarity of the tones. He quickly recognizes them as the people who dragged him here in the first place.

His whole body stiffened, hoping that they somehow wouldn't notice him despite that they are clearly talking about him right now. The two kidnappers continue to ramble aimlessly about a leader or the occasional retort of one of them not being tech support, you know, ridiculous but still somehow terrifying discussion topics. 

Feeling impossibly squeamish, he wanted someone to acknowledge the elephant in the room now. Or rather, the young man tied to a chair in the room. Calling him an elephant seems impolite. However, he immediately wished he could take back the thought and going back to sitting stiffly once they did.

The clanking of boots on the floor told him they were standing directly across from him now. "Hey kid," says the female, even though she sounds slightly younger than him. "You're awfully quiet, yeah?"

Tom rolled his eyes regardless of the fact that she couldn't see. Based on movies he's watched, wasn't he supposed to stay quiet unless spoken to? Feeling brave, he draws a breath to retort but he hears the door swing open yet again. This was far too tiring to keep up with.

"Sir!" goes the two of them in unison. It was comical, if not terrifying that they were able to change tones so quick.

Oh yeah, speaking of terrifying,

"Do you want us to take the bag off his head, sir?" Tom could only assume the person that they referred to as 'sir' had nodded as he felt two hands pulling at the string around his neck, causing it to tighten. 

No, no, that wasn't supposed to be happening. That's too tight. Are they going to kill him? His whole body went jagged as he started to recoil. They can't just bring him here an kill him, right? He heard the two kidnappers shouting but they sounded as if they had been underwater, drowned out completely. The hands were pulling at him too, trying to hold him still. This is too much. This all feels too familiar.

What was that feeling?

That painful familiarity he was feeling?

A missile. Fire. The house is on fire. Blood. "I thought we were friends." Jon's dead. Where's Mark? Eduardo is crying. Harpoon gun. An explosion. More blood. More fire. Did he shoot that harpoon? Did he kill him? Oh god, he killed him. Oh no, please stop.

Sound slowly returned to him along with a tear-jerking ringing sound echoing in both of his ears. This happened more often then it should. Not only could he hear again, but he could also see again. The colors all the sudden coming back made his head hurt. The bag was off his head. "Hello? Sir, he's being unresponsive." Who said that? Oh, he almost forgot where he was. This was sickening. Being here was sickening. "I mean it, he's shaking and crying, but he's not even looking at us." Oh right, they were in front of him. Tom had been looking past the two uniformed kidnappers and to a metal wall. He slowly looked in the direction of the voices, which was right in front of him. A blonde girl with glasses and a darker toned male with the sides of his head shaved were squatted in front of him, clearly annoyed, if not concerned. 

"It's not our fault he tried to suffocate himself with the rope at the same time we were trying to untie it. For God's sake, what an idiot..." Mumbled the blonde female.

They had been trying to untie it, not tighten it and apparently he was trembling and crying. Looking down to avoid the expressions of the two in front of him, he could confirm he was visibly shaking. A tear dropped down onto his lap as well. So there it was folks, he did indeed have another ridiculous breakdown. It wasn't ridiculous at all though, it never was. That was just his own excuse for trying to get Edd and Matt to stop worrying about it. But they weren't here. There it is again; the stirring in his chest as he remembers where he is. He needs to take his pill to calm down. He doesn't have the pill. He can't calm down.

He...

He...

"Regardless of his reaction, I have to congratulate you two, you actually got the right person. You're much better than our two pilots."

Tom's insides twist up for maybe the tenth time, this time being the worst. The man who they had called 'sir', the man who had just talked, has a sickeningly familiar accent. "Tord?" He practically breathed out. Tord was dead, right? He killed him, right?

No, not right.

"Classic stupid Tom." He tisked out the catchphrase like it was poison in his mouth. He sounded raspy, cold even. It had become clear that Tord didn't want to be in this situation either. So why did he steal him from his apartment? Oh, his apartment. How he missed his cozy apartment now.

Tom wanted to continue daydreaming about being home but Tord interrupted that feeling of peacefulness. He's always done that. "Ava, Cameron, please step out." Tom felt sick. He didn't want to be alone with Tord He wanted to beg the two strangers to stay but they had already left.

Tord stepped in front of the chair this time. He wasn't dead, he just looked it. He had grown paler since the last time Tom had seen him and he looked physically weaker. Bandages were sloppily wrapped around his right arm and he had an eye-patch on his right eye to match. "It's good to see you again Tom." Tom gaped at how frail and hoarse his voice has been. How was it even possible for an overactive killer to sound this weak and out-of-place?

Tord most have noticed Tom's change in expression, as he quickly cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "You're probably wondering why you're here-"

"I'm more curious to why you aren't dead." He spat indigently. He was glad he was alive, he had to admit. If he was dead, that would mean he killed him, and Tom never wanted to be a killer just like Tord.

Tord looked taken back for a split second before he quickly changed expression and raised his hand. Tom gasped painfully as his hand struck the side of his face. "You are a hostage, do you understand? You are nothing in front of me!" His tone was so forced that Tom visibly winced. He was different. He wasn't as confident anymore. But he clearly demanded respect.

Probably to make himself feel stronger than he was, he thought to himself.

"Do you understand?" He pried again, seeming much more relentless now. Tom didn't reply but just stared at him wide-eyed. "L-Listen!" He cried out, his voice breaking a bit. Still gaping, Tom tried to edge away despite being tied to a chair.

Tord looked like a lost child. He scoffed quietly and knit his eyebrows together. Giving up, he held his bandaged arm and turned around. "Stay here." He mumbles and walks out the door.

He wasn't dead, no. But Tom presumed he felt it.


	2. Blue Blurs Aren't As Sweet As Blue Berries In Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short chapter following Tord and dreams and shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be a really short chapter, sorry my dudes
> 
> But buckle up kiddos as we're goin' on a psychological roller-coaster w0000

The world was spinning around him, the walls shaking from side to side as if they were dancing to the terrified thoughts protruding from him.

Tord was going to have to deal with Tom himself at one point anyways, so getting over with it was probably the best option. His legs felt oddly light and the hallway to the interrogation room felt oddly large. He shouldn't pay too much attention to it. He just needed to prove his... his...

Why can't he think straight? 

Oh right, he just needed to prove his authority around here. Tord was still in power. Tom can't hurt him. Not again.

He placed a hand on the door knob. He felt like he wasn't strong enough to do anything more, but at least he was able to open the door to see Tom with the little strength he could muster up. He mentally kicked himself for that metaphor. Because metaphorically, he couldn't muster up the strength to do that. Metaphorically, that sort of entrance was too heavy. Because metaphorically, Tom probably never wants to see his face ever again.

Well, that last one one was overwhelmingly literal, actually.

After drawing in a breath, he pushed open the door and fixed his posture into something more confident and oh god - the chair was empty. "Hello?" Tord calls out dryly, feeling his stomach turn. He should have just left. That would have been easier. Get Paul and Patryk to help. Why did he have to say anything? 

He turned his heels to leave but the door had shut. He quickly whipped back around again but now Tom had been in front of him, and definitely not tied up. His eyes seemed almost blacker than usual as they burned right through him. Tord felt lucky to not have just burst into flames at the glare he was receiving. 

"How did you-" He backed up but Tom followed. He was somehow towering over Tord despite that he doesn't remember him ever being too much taller than him.  
Tom grinned wide and clicked his tongue against his teeth as he pulled his hands out of the pocket of his hoodie only to clench his fists. Tord's back was against the wall now. He stared wide-eyed at the man who was barely an inch away from him now. 

He was going to kill him successfully this time, wasn't he? Tord's a goner, isn't he?

Wind rushed past his ears as a fist smashed into the side of his head, making him stagger to the side as he attempted to stay standing. Without anytime to try to process what was happening and what to do about it, another fist uppercutted him in the jaw. His head slammed into the wall behind him. Tom was a blue blur at this point. Tord reached out his hand to try to stop him but the blue blur snatched at his wrist and pulled it above his head, tugging uncomfortably at his shoulder. Tord was panting now despite the fact that he hadn't been the one to throw punches back and forth - though Tom hadn't seemed the slightest bit exhausted.  
Still holding his wrist upward, Tom hissed out words in what sounded like three voices at once; one was his own and one lighter, and the last wasn't his own either but was more towards the middle, but wasn't really deep. "We want nothing to do with you, you bastard."

'We'

Then it had registered in his head -The three voices were his friends. Tom, Edd, and Matt, all at once. Before Tord had any time to be notably horrified, he felt his wrist start to twist painfully under the blur's grasp. "We hate you," he spat. "Maybe if my aim had been a little better..." Now only Tom's voice spoke and Tord felt his eyes threaten tears. Please don't say it. "All of us would be a lot happier." There it was. 

His wrist twisted even more and Tord yelped in pain as he struggled to pull away. "I know!" He winced and gave up trying to escape. "I know, I know..." He echoed and closed his eyes, finally allowing those tears to meet with their sweet relief of freedom "I'm sorry," The pain around his wrist was growing numb. Was Tom going to ruin this arm too? That would be okay if he did. He deserved that. He deserved this all. "I'm sorry." He repeats as he starts to open his eyes, tears webbed on his eyelashes.

Tom looked at him the same as he had before - cold, venomous even. "Then finish my job and die when you wake up."

When you wake up.

Tord's eyes shot open to focus on a man shaking his side a bit. Patryk. "He's up." Smiled Patyrk to his companion, Paul, waiting at the door. 

He sat up tiredly but had to have help from Patryk so he didn't put too much pressure on his right arm. "Thanks," He mumbled and gave the two of them a smile. After what happened, the two pilots had become essential in his life; almost like parents. It started out as just needing some people to help him to maneuver around their site without hurting himself but he'd grown awfully attached to them, begging them to stay even when he was fine doing things on his own. He needed people in his life, as much as he hated to admit it.

"We gave the boy in the interrogation room some food. He didn't seem too happy to find out he was going to stay there over night." Patryk said as he eyed Tord's bandages. They would have to be changed soon.

Without thinking, he responded "Untie him but keep him in the interrogation room."

Paul's eyes widened from across the room. "But red leader-"

"If he attacks me when I come in, then he attacks me." He replied snappily, thinking back to his dream. He dreamt being attacked by Tom thousands of times within the span of the past few months to the point that the thought had become addicting. The thought of Tom inflicting more pain on him was dreadful but satisfying to say the least.

But he needs to work this out with him.

He needed to be something more to Matt and Edd again.

 

He needed to be something more to Tom


	3. Seventy Times Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confused boys~

Tom wanted to go home.

Being locked in a windowless confined room with only the humming of fans for an entire day had been bad enough, but as if it couldn't have already been more treacherous, it all had to be played out via Tord. It made Tom gag thinking that he was in the selfish hands of Tord, the ones that would normally throw punches at him had they been fighting months ago. The same hands that would occasionally accompany him in a hug had he been upset. And maybe it was strange for Tom to have focused on every bit of Tord, but when he had talked to him in this very room, they seemed different -trembling, clenched, sweaty. Was he even the same person anymore? Was Tom himself even the same person either? It was probably best not to dwell on it.

But he did know for a fact that his friends were notably different. Matt was all sorts of messed up; Getting aggressive far too easily, refusing to take the blame for even the littlest of things, but he was also confused on why he was like this, and it really showed in the way he looked at his own reflection. That normal, wide grin was now merely a small smile, sometimes with his eyebrows knit together.

Edd was the kicker though. He froze at the slightest mention of Tord. He seemed almost slower now, not being quick to react to anything or talk if he had been thinking about what happened a few months prior. After a tedious week of therapy, he was quickly diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He shrugged at the diagnosis, but kept even more to himself afterwards. Sometimes he was the most smiley man Tom or Matt had ever seen, other times, he was like a ghost, in a manner of being sad, slow, confused, but also in a manner of scaring Tom beyond any other worries he may have had at the time. It was terrifying to see his best friend clam up and become unresponsive, and all he could do is let it pass. He couldn't even help him.

Tord did this. And here was Tom, playing into his game, into the game of the bastard that destroyed his best friends. It was enough to make him shake with anger beyond what he's ever felt towards him.

 

But he couldn't do anything about that. He was a mouse in a cage and all he could possibly do is wait for someone to come in that door. Almost as if waiting for that thought to swish around his head, someone opened the door. Tom's shoulders immediately tensed up as the door made a loud creaking noise, in relation to the swings that he and Matt had played on when they were only kids. "Hey," Tom relaxed at the familiar voice. Paul and Patryk.

The two of them had been feeding him and checking on him to an endless extent, which of course, is nothing to complain about. These two men were the only friendly things down here and Tom ravished in their presence. He felt a sense of safeness as if being approached by a friend, although he doesn't think it would be appropriate to call either one of them that. "Hi." Tom replied, still staring forward. He didn't smell food so he assumed that had just been here to check up on him but when a hand starts to pull at the rope around his wrists, he freezes.

"What are you two doing...?" His breathing is heavy. They were letting him out. Were they taking him somewhere? He didn't want to see Tord again. He'd rather die than see Tord again. Oh god, what if they're taking him somewhere else so that he can be executed? Okay so maybe seeing Tord didn't seem too bad in this case. After he didn't get a reply from either one of them, he began to shove them both back by crashing his shoulders into them. "Stop! I'm fine here!" Patryk grunted and Tom could hear Paul him mumble "Baby, are you okay?" in a worried tone. After the two had most likely checked each other one more time, the hands were back on the ropes.

"Stop it!" Tom barked. And then he realized that the two had been shouting something, but they sounded far too drowned out. Was their water in his ears? He took a deep breath, as if getting ready to plunge himself into said water, and finally, his surroundings came into clear. The two men had been relentlessly wrestling his tied up body but sighed in relief as Tom himself had calmed down. It was worrying how often this sort of ordeal happened back home too.

Still trembling, he knew he had to accept the inevitable. He can't change what's going to happen and he can't change the past, despite that he would give everything to do that. He was tense but his chest felt warm as he felt his heart rate slowly drop back to something relevantly normal. His stomach was turning but it felt numb at the same time, in comparison to being punched in the gut. What a wonderful collage of feelings. "Calm down Tom, we're just following orders." grumbled Paul as he untied the rope completely now. "Red Leader says that he's granting you permission to walk around in the room, but don't, and I mean don't, attack him, got it?". Still catching up with his own racing condition, Tom nodded apprehensively. 

Red Leader

He chewed the name in his mind and spit it out. No, Tord didn't deserve that kind of respect from him. If anything, he deserved to be called a few things that Tom would bite his tongue before saying in front of his two pilots. 

Patryk patted Tom's back in an attempt to comfort him before the two of them left, locking three different locks on the door from the other side after they closed it. It took him a second to process but yes, he actually was able to walk now. Shakily, Tom lifted himself from the chair. His knees were incredibly weak and he immediately stumbled before regaining his posture. Everything past his waist ached in pain, wanting to lay down again because oh god, standing was far too difficult now, but he ruled that out of his mind quickly, wanting to have the ability to pace again.

A thought crossed his mind. He knew what sounded like the best option right now, which was to actually be able to sleep in a laying position. So wearily, the brunet crouched to the cold floor carefully and felt the material around him with both hands, drawing half circles on both sides of him, before falling to one side. It wasn't comfortable no, but it was better than being tied to a chair with barely any circulation to his hands. His head already grew sore from the flat, hard ground but he ignored the forming headache and closed his eyes, only now realizing just how heavy they were.

His eyes shot open upon hearing each individual lock be unlocked. The corners of Tom's mouth formed a smile thinking of Paul and Patryk. With each click of the lock, a new thought crossed his mind.

First one, click. How long had he been asleep for?

Second one, click. Was it even time for a meal? What time was it anyways?

Third one, click. What if that isn't Paul and Patyrk? 

The door opens. Well that answers that question.

Tom's heart dropped because, no, it wasn't Paul and Patryk, and no, it wasn't Ava and Cameron, because no, it was Tord. It was Tord fucking Larsson. All at once, Tom's prior anger returned and his eyes narrowed. Tord must have recognized the expression because he quickly took a step back and grabbed his bandaged arm as if it was a last ditch attempt to protect it despite that it already looked ruined beyond repair, kind of like his friends. And with that state of mind, Tom was standing up now, gritting his teeth together like a dog about to pounce on a rabbit, except that the rabbit was a backstabbing son of a bitch that deserved what was coming to him. With a single motion, Tord's head slammed into the floor. Tom was on top of him now and his hands were grasping at anything they could. One hand had been grabbing a tuft of Tord's caramel colored hair and the other had been rested on the side of his face.

Okay, so maybe this position seemed more romantic than threatening but it was something.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"Tom, get off! Please!"

"Answer my question!"

"I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!"

Tom froze. Tord was shaking and had his eyes closed tight. "Please don't kill me" played through his head like a broken record player. It was annoying and disturbing to hear over and over because it didn't sound right. The scratched record was being played over and over at his least favorite part of the song and he longed for it to stop. For months, Tom lived with the weight of believing he murdered someone, and here was this same person begging for Tom not to kill him. Was he scared too? "W--What do you want with me?!" He barked unsteadily, his mind still clinging to the words he had said merely less than a minute ago. "Why am--... Why am I here?!"

Tord kept his eyes closed tight and looked away so that Tom could only see the side of his face. "Because I--" his expression changed to that of a focused one, almost as if he had rehearsed this in his head a thousand times and was trying to remember the exact words he planned on saying. "Because the saying, 'seventy times seven' is a load of shit." He stuttered nervously but wore a slightly more confident expression. "Surely being kidnapped doesn't meet the equivalent of being scarred and nearly killed."  
Tom, not wanting to believe what he was hearing, tore off Tord's eye-patch but he closed his eyes and reached out to palm Tom in the face as a response. "Let me see." He growled. He messed up his arm, he could obviously see that, and that already made his stomach float around uneasily, but that was the worst of it right? 

No.

Tord slowly opened his eye, revealing one perfectly normal, if not worried, eye and one pale one, outlined and bolded with black.

Blind.

Tom's grip on Tord was beginning to falter and he couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't keep this up. He let go completely and collapsed onto the man under him, laying his head on his chest. It wasn't appropriate and he would very easily regret doing this later but he wasn't now and that's all that mattered at the moment.   
There was no words being exchanged between the two as they lay quietly together. Tord was tense, probably expecting to be surprised-choked or something to that effect while Tom began to give in to the faltering of his senses. Already, his hearing was faded into what sounded like a riff and his vision was blurry. He was gladly about to accept the loss of feeling for a moment. That was, before Tord wrapped his arms around Tom's waist.

"How much do you all hate me?"

"A lot." Tom sniffled in reply "God, we hate you so fucking much."

Tord nodded a bit and looked away. "Me too."


	4. My Chemical Not Quite Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aye I'm alive and not procrastinating

    Tord groaned as two hands gently shook him awake. 

        He supposed that that was for the better though. His dream was the same as usual; him being attacked by something. It was Tom this time again. Just a few days ago, the two had met each other with screaming and then strange "venting through cuddling". In his dream, however, Tom had still been on top of him, but this time, his knees dug into his small frame as his black eyes painted his own pain. Tom, on top of him, hurting him while facing his own unexplained pain. Dreadfully poetic, it is.  
        The hands that shook him were Paul's. "Morning kiddo," he smiled through his own exhausted expression. "You have a few errands to run today-" -he paused, a weak smiled making its way upon his face- "did you want me and Pat to do them for you again?" 

        Tord shook his head vigorously. He had to prove himself sooner or later. Why not now? "No! I can do it this time." He announced. Despite this, he wasn't very confident with his answer. For the past few months, he couldn't even do simple tasks like shopping or meeting with allies. In fact, most of his allies had resigned from him, tired of his constant absence. We made an alliance with you, not these two. they'd always write to him, talking about Paul and Patryk. 

        Paul looked unsure. "We'll have to send someone with you, at least."

        "What?!" Tord jeered in response. "No, really, I don't need--"  
        "You only need to pick up a few things today. We can have Pat or me come with you, it's really not that big of a deal." he attempted to convey. Tord's shoulders dropped in defeat. He knew that they cared about him - Paul and Pat - and he cared about them too. They had become like the father figures he never had. He grew up to a family that didn't care what happened to him or noticed when he was gone, when he was there. Even when he was living with Edd, he denied all of the affection and hospitality he was being given because he knew that he would leave one day. He just needed a place to build something, and Edd being a long-time friend of his seemed caring enough to not even see through him. Of course, he misses them all, -Edd, Matt, and annoying as he tended to be, Tom- only now realizing how much he depended on them as friends. So maybe he wasn't really used to this sort of safekeeping that he got from Paul and Patryk. He felt undeserving to the point that it made him hate every fiber of himself. People taking him in on more than one occasion just so that he could destroy it all in benefit of his own desires. Who's to say he doesn't do that to these two without even thinking about it? 

        Tord pushed away that thought, he had to. "Fine. But I'm not taking either of you with me." A sigh made its way out of his lungs. Paul almost looked hurt by his answer, if not considerably confused. "I'm taking Tom and then I'm sending him to one our allies."

 

        His caretaker's eyes widened drastically. "So that was your whole plan?" He just about hissed in disbelief. "Kidnap him and then send him away?"   
        "Well we can't have him snitching about our whereabouts to the police or something! At least someone else might actually get some use outta him!" Tord huffed.  
        After the initial shock, Paul seemed to have calmed down slightly. "I'll go get him. Patyrk will see to your wardrobe." His tone was like a straight line - boring, not changing. It just about made Tord's chest hurt. He knew he was getting awfully attached to Tom. He knew about Paul and Pat going to visit with him every so often. He knew that they might as well enjoy his company more than his own. Was it really so far-fetched to say he was jealous of Tom? This wouldn't even be the first time he was.

        It was dreadfully obvious at the time, but Tord was developing feelings for Edd. He hadn't planned on engaging in anything with him though, as he was either going to accidentally kill him when he finally left with his robot or he was going to leave him alive and force him into his new form of government without even listening to whether he wanted to or not. Huh, it's hard to imagine which one would be the most devastating for the two of them.

        Anyway, Edd really was clueless to Tord's feelings towards him, that or he didn't care. It was hard to tell with Edd sometimes. Tom, however, did notice. As far as Tord knew, Edd felt strongly towards Tom. Whether this was platonically or as something a bit more, he never found out. But at the time, he had never hated Tom so much. They went at it for hours, just yelling and accusing the other of being something. Finally, Tord broke down into wet, hot tears and Tom, for maybe the first time, felt sympathetic towards him. They engaged into a deep conversation with really no meaning behind it and fell asleep like that. The next morning, Matt found them tangled up in each other's arms, sleeping on the floor. After a lot of explaining and embarrassment on their side, Matt finally understood that there was no meaning behind it and they just accidentally fell asleep. After that, they hated each other even more.

        While Tord had been reminiscing, Paul had already left and Pat was now in the room instead. "Never thought of you as a trades person," He said sadly before helping him out of bed.

✗*✕*✗*✕

        They were walking towards the store. Tord had had a mini fight with Tom, forcing him to put his hands into his pocket of his sweatshirt. Handcuffs were placed and fastened around the eyeless man's hands, hidden from humanity under the coat of blue. Tom's posture was firm and straight, causing no-one to think anything was up. As if they knew him, anyways. The only thing he was honestly known for was the fact that he had no eyes, and some of the town knew him for that. No-one bothered to get to know him, whether that be because he had a snarky personality, or maybe he just kind of looked scary.

        The duo made their way to the store, in no hurry. Tord's mind was filled with thoughts of sorrow and regret, meanwhile Tom was annoyed and fed up with this shit. He blinked, his eyes adjusting after being in that room for so long. He didn't care or mind about talking, since his throat hurt, anyways. He looked down at Tord, that line was still repeating like a broken record, to forever spin. He looked away, pain filling the blackness, the two wholes which he could still see perfectly out of. His gaze was focused onto Tord's eyepatch. . . Blind. He was. . . Blind. And that's all because of his fault. Tom's fault. His hands in his jacket tightened, his teeth rubbing against each other as he bit down with annoyance and nervousness. His stomach was flipping.

        Tord could only see out of one eye now. Because of him. Tom.

        Tom had done this. He had treated Tord like shit from the beginning, and now he was starting to feel regret? Tom's eyes widened with anger and annoyance, he stopped in his tracks, causing Tord to let out a grunt of surprise when he looked back, no longer hearing Tom's footsteps alongside him.

        No. Tom hadn't done this. Whatsoever. It wasn't his fault. It was Tord's. His gaze was cast down as he looked at the man with a blindfold, staring at him with that one amber eye shining. Tom hated that gaze. He hated that man, this little man in front of him, he hated everything about him. A wave of anger ran into Tom, causing his eye to twitch. Tord backed up, his back towards the store behind him. His one eye was settled onto Tom.

        His one eye.

        Because he'd made a stupid ass decision, trying to rule the world, he had paid. There was no need for anger. Calm down, Tom. Tom had to think it over and over, his anger and revolt soon dying down. He walked into the store, pushing past Tord, slamming into his shoulder with an angry grunt. Tom walked into the store, and sat down on a bench, a few isles away from the coat section. Not only did he just have one eye now, but he also only had one arm.

        The arm, however, he could work with. An eyepatch, he could not. He could not see through it. He couldn't use his eye.  
        Tom breathed in deeply, before he backed his back up against the wall behind him, placing up a knee on his other knee. His hands remained fumbling in his pocket of his jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally got a co-author, though she doesn't have an A03 account but yeee, she's super cool and she wrote the second part of this chapter
> 
> Due to this, I'll finally be able to post more often ayyeee
> 
> So be prepared for some rad angst from your two favorite gays


	5. Savior Only, Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash wrote this entire chapter (bless her) and I edited and added details here and there
> 
> So yes, enjoy her adorable interpretation of Tom when he's uncomfortable

     Tom glanced over at Tord, as he was looking in between two red coats, unable to make up his mind. He looked at Tom with a frown, tapping his foot against the ground with a narrowed eye. The steps from his foot was echoing around the store - not many people were in it at this time, maybe just some chatter here and there. Tom's eyes trailed over to a clothing lines over towards the left of Tord, as he studied the rack.

        It was iron, paled over with some rust. White and blue hangers hung from it, picking up the clothes instead of letting them being weighed down onto the cold ground. Checkered white and black. Tom glanced down at his shoes. He hadn't remember the last time he had really changed out of these clothes... He sighed, and looked up at Tord, walking over to him nervously. When he spoke, his voice was weighed down and cracking with a nervous echo. "H-Hey... Could I... Perhaps... Get a um... New shirt, or something...?" He went to go run a hand through his hair, but it was only resulted in failure, due to his hands being handcuffed together. When he pulled, it broke some of his skin, it digging into his pale skin. He winced.

        Tord looked at him, confusion mixing with his emotions for a moment, before his face brightened up. "Oh, shit... I'm sorry. Of course. Here." He threw his newly chosen jacket onto Tom's shoulder, Tom scoffing at Tord as he placed the other one back.

        He didn't understand. How could he hide his bandaged arm so well? Tom's eyes skimmed the current jacket he was wearing. It didn't even show the wrapped, torn fingers, just totally hidden. In what? God, Tom didn't even want to know. Tom's gaze was cast down onto the floor, staring at his shadow, as it was looming over the checkered floor. His feet seemed to be apart of the floor, just with much more smaller checkers. He laughed softly at himself for a moment, before he felt a smaller hand grab his arm.

        Tom let out a little squeak, forgetting the fact that Tord was still there. When Tord had tugged him, it tugged on the iron metal around his wrists, digging deeper into his wrists. Blood slightly splattered onto his coat in small, but noticeable amounts. He let out a growl, pulling back from Tord, with a new venom sparking into his eyes. Tord looked back at him, cocked his head, and then opened his mouth, as if to ask what was wrong. Then his face paled with guilt as he realized what he had done.

        The look on Tord's face made Tom regret why he had just gotten so poisonous towards him. Guilt also flooded Tom, but he played it off better then Tord. He looked away, before he walked forward, looking away from Tord. Tom's eyes remained on the clothing and other parts of clothing hanging onto the wall. Holes were in the walls, overlaying with metals to hang the clothing. Little, tiny holes, each separated neatly with the same amount of space between each individual one. Holes, hiding whatever was behind them. His eyes glanced past the holes, looking at the clothing scattered onto the walls as if it was a scene in a movie where one character said "act natural" but no one knew how. It looked as if the workers here didn't even fucking care about their own store. It looked messy and undone, but he didn't understand why Tord shopped here-

        No. He knew why. Tom glanced back at the rose-blonde, who was picking out clothes a while away from him now, behind him in an entire new isle. Tom took a left, leaving Tord's sight, and Tord leaving his own sight. Maybe it was best like that. He slumped up against the wall. This had to be a thrift shop. They were usually unkempt and were used for wanting to stay low in the streets or get out of the way from cops. Not even like the cops were good at their jobs, anyways - he'd learned that from the fact that no police even bothered to investigate the disappearence of Tord, because yes, Tom did in fact want to know if he was alive, or rather was breathlessly hoping he was. He slid down the wall, until his bottom touched the floor, gently.

        It went on like that for a few minutes; he'd just sit in silence, thinking about the most random of things, from satisfying things to sorrowful things, the lightest of hues to the darkest of shades, memories to remember and ones you wish you couldn't. Every now and then, he'd hear a hanger rattle up against another one of it's own, then it'd grow quiet as Tord grew closer.

        Finally, after what it seemed like to be an eternity, Tord finally rounded the corner, and looked down at Tom.

        He could barely put his head over the amount of clothes that he had in his arms (all that looked of military fashion, though Tom could tell they were all too big for Tord's small frame.), causing Tom to squeak and stand up, looking down at Tord with wide, eyeless eyes. His black eyes showed surprise and maybe even thankfulness before he attempted to move his hands again, only to fail. Tord just grinned sheepishly up at him, his teeth clicking as they poked out of the corner of his mouth. It seemed far-fetched that even now, Tord could change the atmosphere completely, making Tom's heart race to keep up with it all - but that was the only reason his heart was racing, of course. Right?

         So back to reality for once, the duo walked up towards the front desk, making little conversation.

        "Are you sure you're going to have enough money, Tord?" It was the first time Tom had spoken so confidently all day; though his negative tone was still prominent, but maybe toned down for once. He looked down at the shorter man as they finally arrived at the front desk, Tord taking a hand as he hit the top of the bell. The bell went off like an alarm, the amount of times Tord hit it. Tom couldn't help but cringe.

        Tord looked up at him, finally, as he put the clothes down and they awaited for the worker to come out and have them pay. "Are you kidding, Tom? Classic, stupid Tom."

        Tom winced again, the recent events running through his memories. His eyes widened. Matt! Edd! A frown slowly found it's way on his expression, dragging his lips down onto his face, and he kind of just turned away, slouched over.

        Three words, that changed his and Tord's life forever. He glared back at Tord, who had just stared at him. Again. Realization hit him like a bus, and he slid over to Tom, planting a hand onto the taller man's back. "Oh fuck. I'm sor-"

        "Excuse me." A lewd, annoyed voice came from behind them. Tord had a faster reaction time then Tom, as Tom just turned around slowly. A teenager sat there, his hat tipped over as he leaned over onto the desk. He looked at Tord, then at the large amount of clothes hanging around his arm. His eyes widened as he realized how much scanning was to be done. Quietly, he started getting to work.

        It was silence between the three men. Just silence. Tord's gaze was cast towards the scanning of the clothes, his eyes narrowed in a concentrated glare as he watched the hands move, the clothes being scanned. It was an uncomfortable place to be. Tom with Tord in plain quiet with only the shrill "beep. beep. beep" of the scanner occupying the dreadful emptiness.

        Tom's gaze was just on the floor underneath him, his eyes closed. He hadn't realized how much. . . He hadn't realized just how much he had missed Edd and Matt until now. His two best friends, his both most important, and only friends in the world. He felt tears starting to prickle up onto his eyes, before he opened his eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears starting to sprinkle into his eyes. He had to get out of here. . . He looked up at Tord. Why did he even want him here any longer? Why did he even want him in the first place? He scoffed, and looked away with a saddened, if not frustrated glance. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a small conversation come up from the teenager scanning the clothes.

        "So, do you two have a big family, or are you two like married, or...?" The cashier looked up at Tord, eyeing the eyepatch that was hugging his eye like a safety blanket.  
        Tom blinked at him, before he yelled(a little too loudly) at the teen, "Fuck no! I would never want to be married to this piece of shit who keeps m-" hands were clapped over his mouth by Tord, Tord grabbing his cheeks tightly in an attempt to close them. Tom just didn't fight back. He had already said what he had wanted to say. His eyes just narrowed with frustration at he looked at the teen, who had paused doing his work. Tom's eyes trailed down to his nametag onto the teenager's shirt. It read, Christian.

        Christian didn't know how to respond. He just looked a little scared. Really, that sneer Tom was giving Tord made him jump out of his skin and the sneer hadn't even been directed at him. He gulped, before he went back to work. Tord's hand remained on Tom's lips for a moment longer, and the silence reunited above the three men. When Christian finally announced the price of how much all of the clothes cost, (which had surpassed four digits. Keep in mind this is a thrift store) Tord didn't even look surprised. He slowly removed his hands off of Tom's mouth, and then allowed them to refind themselves back into his pockets. After pulling out his wallet, he began to count out the money he needed to spend. It was Pat's fault for forgetting to put back his credit card. 

        Meanwhile, Tom's eyes had widened, and he was pretty shocked himself. He looked at Tord, the price dancing on his lips until he said it out loud. "Two thousand, six hundred and twenty three dollars? What the fuck Tord?" Again. He tried to put a hand through his ruffled up hair, yet again, it resulted into utter failure as he ripped the muscle in his wrist again. He winced. Again. His hands were now up against something wet in his jacket, most likely the fresh blood. He could even tell? He looked at Tord, who handed over three thousand.

        "Keep the change, kid." The man in red started, before he grabbed the bags in his hands. He started to walk out of the store, and Tom followed. It was honestly as if it were on command, Tord didn't even need to say anything anymore. Tord pulled out his phone through the mess of the four bags, two on each side. They were outside now, walking on the street, now in a very busy street. Due to Tom's kind of tall size, he was able to look over most people in this helled town. His gaze, however, was locked onto Tord, as he was started to drift away from the group of people, seeming to be locked on whatever he was reading or doing on that damn phone. Tom walked after him, and some people gave him the stare as if he were stalking Tord. It would be hilarious to see their expression if he were to tell them he was the one who had been kidnapped and held against his will by someone who nearly killed him and his friends.

        Tom glanced them awkward glances, a little nervous now. His gaze, however, was resettled onto Tord. . . He started running. Shit. Tord needed to look up. A car was speeding down the road, and Tord had looked into it, without even noticing it, as he resumed to look at his phone. Screeching of a wheel... "Tord!" Tom finally screamed, the muster of courage he managed to grab up and throw out of his mouth ran into the air, dancing onto the particles, and reaching the Red Leader's ears. He looked up and paled, his eyes met with the oncoming car. Tom had to push forward... He couldn't go as fast with his wrists tied together by this stupid shit... He winced as he pulled, and felt it cut through, scrapping against the bones, cutting right through the muscle. He felt something snap and his hands were free, as he ran forward. He wasn't going to make, he wasn't going to make it...!

        He jumped at the last moment, his body crushing into Tord's throwing them both onto the ground, shopping bags going up everywhere.

✗*✕*✗*✕

        Tom felt himself being lifted and assisted with walking, as he felt a smaller figure underneath him, dragging him. He blinked, and groaned, his legs hurt, his body hurt, and he was really cold. His arm was wrapped around this person's neck, as he felt some sticky stuff from his nose, going into his mouth, onto his chin. He slowly opened his eyes, his emotions numbed as he tried to come through. He looked down at the shorter man, his vision blurry, as all he could really see was just red and darkness. He stumbled onto his feet, his wrists burning. He went to rub them, but the grip around his hands tightened, causing him to whine, and groan in even more pain. He looked at the shorter man, before he noticed it was Tord. He looked at him, before he groaned out, "... W-what happened?"

        He felt Tord's arm around his waist, and honestly, he liked it there. He didn't want it to move from him, ever. He looked at Tord, his vision slowly starting to come to.

        It took Tord some time to respond, before he finally did. He looked up at Tom, his eye was bloodshot and looked as if he'd been crying, though he couldn't tell with the other eye as it was hidden under that black eye patch. He stared at Tom, before he dropped him, and Tom - who was barely able to hold himself up, even with Tord's support - was ataken by surprise, stumbling onto his feet, only to be hugged tightly around the waist/stomach area. He stared at him, blinked a few more times, before his eyes started to recognize his surroundings. He was back into Tord's base, underground. At least he wasn't above ground anymore. He looked down, taken out of his thoughts as he felt Tord's shoulders shaking and hiding him. He felt his shirt go wet from his stomach, where Tord was.

        Was... Was he crying? He looked down at Tord, blinking a little, before he leaned against him lightly, putting a hand in his hair, and his chin resting on top. Tom's hand trailed down, and rubbed Tord's back softly, not even regretting what he was doing.

        "Y-you fucking idiot... You saved me. Why?" Tord cried, his shoulders shaking in pain, maybe fear even. He had always knew Tom had fucking hated him, but...  
        Tom just couldn't answer. He clearly saw that they weren't going to be getting up for a while, so he slowly lowered himself onto the ground, feeling a little bit dizzy. He felt Tord sit onto his lap and cry into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as mentioned, this entire chapter was written by Ash whilst I just edited it and worked in some extra details. For those of you who follow me on Quotev, (https://www.quotev.com/DevinDrawsOkay) , you might have noticed how I posted the first half of the previous chapter on there before the whole thing came out so that I could add in at the end that I was looking for co-authors and she applied for it and I thought she was an amazing writer and yup, she literally wrote all of this today by herself. So if you have a Quotev, just check out her account, she's p gr8 (https://www.quotev.com/AshPuma) 
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO! I've gotten tons of people saying they'd like to make fan-art and just mmmm p l e a s e, if you make fanart, send it to me! It literally makes my day, I can't


	6. Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First part was written by AshPuma  
> Second part was written by Existence_is_a_state_of_mind

  It's been days now since the accident. Tom himself still didn't entirely forgive Tord, but he didn't say anything. Even if he wanted to, how does one simply ring up a 'Hey, so you nearly abandoned me. Oh you also nearly tore me away completely from my friends. You wanna talk about it?'? He just sucked it up and went, remaining to himself. He'd wondered what time it was now. How many days had he stayed here? A day? A week? An hour? Sixty minutes? Sixty single minutes? Tom couldn't tell. Altogether, he'd lost track of time. The duo had been locked underground since the incident of Tord almost getting run over. To be entirely honest, Tom still had no idea what even had happened to those clothes. He was just glad that Tord was okay.

        No... What was he thinking? Of course it was only because they were... Acquaintances? This new swelling in his heart clearly wasn't because of Tord, correct?

Yes. Right...

Tom's gaze dropped as he fell silent, walking through the doors. He had long since given in. After the day that Tord was nearly ran over, the duo had sat in that spot Tom had sat down in, and Tord had cried for around two hours. Afterwards, he hadn't let Tom out of his sight in the past few days. Even now, he wasn't alone, with a newly made watch that had a camera on it. Tom was also wearing a customized blue jacket, which had the words, "Red Army," plastered and sewn into the back of it. At least Tord had had the common sense to make the jacket blue instead of red. Tom let his gaze lower onto the ground underneath him as a female walked past him, with a scowl directed towards him stuck on her face.

        He barely managed to stay through it. Yes, he didn't want to leave Tord's side anymore, but it was tiring and annoying being around him the entire time. Just him. Like glue, stuck next to Tord's side, and he didn't say anything. Yet, he had to give him a chance... Right? A second chance, if Tom would. Tom's gaze shifted upon the corridor, the long hall-way seeming to never end. So, he decided, for once, to go on without waiting for Tord. He turned off his watch, but he knew that despite his efforts, Tord would still end up tracking him anyways.

        As he walked, his feet hit the ground and gave off an echo through the spacious hall-way. He let out a long sigh, before he shuffled down the hall-way, and he finally managed to find his way out of the place, and retouched outside. His lungs were squeezing as he breathed in, smelling the brand new air, seeing people again. He sighed and shuffled as his hands fumbled together, still bandaged up from that day. Tom already knew that it would take months, even years, to fully heal again. Tom sighed, as he stuffed his hands back into his pockets... He had forgotten that he was wearing his new custom made vest, but ignored the "Red Army," part altogether. He walked down the street, took a few turns, and then ending up finding himself in the park.

        Why was he here? He rarely came here on his own, let alone being dragged here. He didn't know, or wasn't even really sure if he wanted to know. He sighed and felt himself carry himself to a nearby bench, and sat down on it.

        He didn't know whether it was the content sound of the water from the waterfall, or whether it was the soft cries of the birds in the trees. But everything in him finally came crashing down, and Tom, the one who had no emotions, no cares, or no fucks, started crying. Every wall that he had built had started to break down, and he couldn't hold it back anymore as he cried into his hands. And it wasn't silently crying. It was full out, sobbing. His sudden crying brought some attention of some bystanders happening to walk by his bench, and made them walk away quicker and away from him. That in itself made Tom feel even more alone. That lovely, chest aching, numbed-heart, something rising in his throat sort of feeling. 

        It had of been a good twenty minutes he was crying. A good, solid, twenty minutes. He sniffled, but had no energy remaining to getup, so he just watched the water from the waterfall for a bit. He was about to get up, to go wash his face in it, but he was suddenly very interrupted entirely by a shot going off in the air. Tom's head whipped over, as he looked and saw none other then the rose-colored haired Norwegian. Tom blinked the remaining tears as his first instinct was to tense up as he looked around the park. Tord's one eye, scanning the park, until they landed onto Tom's dark, holeless eyes. Tord's own eyes widened, as he rushed over and let a frown plaster itself onto his face.  
        Tom stared at him, again, he felt like breaking down once more, but it resumed to no prevail. He'd know that it'd be useless, with no hope in doing so. It was a gut-wrenching feeling to show any signs of emotion outside of irritation when he was met with the Norwegian - it made him feel vulnerable and weak; something that he'd have otherwise assumed Tord would absolutely ravish in.  He brought a hand up to his nose, rubbing it against his sleeve as Tord just kept his distance for a bit from Tom. An eerie silence once again settled around the two. Finally, Tord spoke up.

        "Tom... Where were you?" His heart and voiced seemed to be weighed down by guilt and even with a pang of sadness mixed in there. He stared at Tom with eyes that seemed to break right through Tom's defenses. Tom only really found one way to explain - the truth.

        "I... I don't know." He answered truthfully. He had no idea where his feet had taken him, but all he knew was that it was the park that he stopped. He had no idea, either - he had no idea why he cried, or why he had any reason too, really. Sure, one could say he had plenty of reasons. But Thomas Ridgewell doesn't cry. He's not supposed to. It's like Matt being humble; completely unheard of, completely moronic to even consider. So what was it? If he were to actually be honest with himself, he could admit that Tord had an impact on him before, but now it was worst. It was like he was slowly being wore away, like water against rock. That's what Tord wants, isn't it? Still, Tom refused to acknowledge the possibility of the Norwegian getting everything his way. That leaves why his feet carried him to the park.

        Then, it hit him like a train. After the incident Tord had caused with the robot and the destroying of the house, Edd, and Matt, and Tom would end up eating together at the park. And he hadn't seen the two in months. Fifty-six days? One thousand, forty four hours? He didn't know. And his heart ached. What if they got worst? They could barely take care of themselves without one of them having an angry outburst or the other completely shutting down for days on end - just imagine what it would be like if they were left alone for . . . who knows how long. The tears he thought were all dried off started leaking out of him again, pouring out of his eye sockets. He started crying again, but he didn't realize it. He was too lost in his thoughts. Then, a voice knocked him out of his thoughts, making him fly back into Earth. Into reality.

        "Tom. . . Why are you crying. . .?" Tord looked at him with a small smile, though Tom couldn't decide whether or not it was a happy or sad smile. Did he still want him to suffer? Did Tord like Tom suffering, to see him in pain, for him not to see his friends again? It felt like that. Hell, it felt like that from the very start. This only built Tom's storm again, his wrists hurt, he was falling into depression, he felt alone, and scared. Even with Tord right there in front of him.

        Tom couldn't take it and he turned around and ran. He knew Tord wasn't going to go after him, since Tord would let him have his space. At least Tord was good at leaving him alone. Tom felt invaded, scared, alone. But. . . He heard foot steps behind him, and he looked back, slowly coming to a stop. He couldn't run anymore. He was tired. His head was killing him, but it had the energy to turn to see who was following him. And none other was there but Tord. His voice was quiet at first, his lips barely moving, before Tom heard him clearly.  
        "Tom, be honest with me, okay? Let's give each other a second chance." His voice was soft and kind, despite the harsh conditions they had both gone through.

  ✗*✕*✗*✕

         "Tom, be honest with me, okay? Let's give each other a second chance." Tord tried to talk with a calmer, understanding tone but his voice faltered near the end, giving way to a drop of his heart. Fortunately, it didn't seem like Tom noticed.

        Tom seemed to stare at him forever with those big black eyes. Tord felt weak under his stare. There was no way he could search for emotion in those eyes. They could be filled with wonder, or hatred, or forgiveness, or anger, and Tord could never be sure. That thought tugged at every fiber of his mind. Finally, the painful silence was filled by Tom.

        His voice started out dry and tired, but worked its way back into his normal deep demeanor before his sentence finished. "If we're being honest," he paused. That pause felt like forever. That pause made Tord feel like all those nightmares were bound to happen. And when the pause ended and Tom began to speak again, the nightmares didn't seem half as bad as what he said. "I'm just-. . . I'm just confused. I-I'm beyond confused! All these things that you've done; leaving twice, coming back, taking advantage of my friends, killing my neighbor, destroying our house, kidnapping me to boost your ego, trying to get rid of me again! But the worst part-. . . The worst part is that I'm not mad. The worst part is that I almost want to just reach out and hug you and--" Tom didn't say anything more. He didn't have to say anything more, because Tord was already frozen in place, trembling. When did it get so cold?

        He didn't hate him. He wanted to hug him. There was something about that that made Tord feel even worst than he had, that made him want to collapse into Tom's arms again. He wouldn't though. He couldn't. Tord hated the dreadful feeling that was invading his chest like a thick, opaque liquid. He couldn't speak at first. He couldn't even move at first. "Do you. . . Do you remember when Matt got scared from that one movie and hid under the bed?"

        Tom's expression twisted from sadness to irritation at the fact that he seemed to be avoiding the subject. "Yeah. We had to be the ones to help him out since he was too big for it and couldn't get out by himself."

        "Remember what you said afterward? After we got him out?"

        "W-what?" Tom rasped. 

        "You said, 'You're not that bad commie'."

        The brunet shook his head in confusion and closed his eyes tightly in a frustrated matter. "What does that have to do with--"

        "Did you mean it?" Tord suddenly interrupted, fixing his green-grey eyes onto Tom's face, mentally admiring his features. Tord had always been jealous of the way Tom   
looked; thought he made for an attractive one, but he'd never admit that to him.

        Tom's eyes filled with something for once. Something that Tord could actually read. Ambivalence. He gently shook his head. "I take it back now."

        Tord raised his voice for the first time in their conversation and his eyes filled with dejection as he knit his eyebrows together. "Then why did you say you wanted to hug me?! Jesus Christ Tom, don't you believe in second chances?!"

        That moment had brought their faces closer together. Tom's fretful expression stared calmly at Tord's exasperated features. Suddenly, Tom whispered out a spiteful "Well as long as I'm here, I'm apparently under your authority, so what I believe in doesn't matter. I'm practically your fucking servant at this point and I can only do what you tell me to do. You think sonsofbitches like you deserve second chances?"

        Tord knew that the last part was counterfeit by the way Tom stiffened up at that part specifically. Ignoring it completely, he focused on what he said about only doing as he is told. "Then. . . Then. . . Then fucking--"

        "Then fucking what?!"

        "Then fucking kiss me!"

        Not a moment of hesitation passed between the boys before they both started pulling each other towards themselves. Tom yanked on Tord's jacket and forced their lips together into a teeth-clashing, angry and spiteful kiss. Tord's hands moved to cup Tom's face anxiously but were soon pulled away as Tom drew back. 

        "You're kidding yourself Tord Larsson." Tom spat as he turned away quickly and began walking away, but judging by the way that he moved his hands to wipe his eyes of tears as he walked in the opposite direction, maybe Tord wasn't the only one kidding himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we end on a very gay note™  
> _____  
> Right right righr righiarjft so, I literally stumbled upon fan-art for this fic. As we are planning on putting this on other websites, I searched it up and it came up with this amino thingy and this person made fan-art and I screamed
> 
> Okayokay so, if you make fan-art, we beg of you, send it to us! We were so excited when we came across the mentioned piece of fan-art and it's incredible to know that we're actually writing things that make people want to contribute??? Like holy hEk, that's insane. In summary, pl ea sE send us any fan-art you make!


	7. All You'll Ever Be Is A Nightmare And A Wet Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh look we actually updated  
> praise the lord almighty

     Oh, how things have changed.

 

        Eyes on the sky, and feet on the ground, and a cat in his arms. Oh yeah, of course - let's not forget about the fact that the ground gave out and oh, holy shit, there's a giant transformer-like robot in the sky. Naturally, Ringo is hissing and sprawling himself wherever he can in Edd's arm, but Ringo's eyes too, remain on the giant robot in the sky. The two of them recognized it obviously. It was red, firing a missile at something, and had a certain communist inhabiting it. The missile fires and Edd knows where it was heading - Tom. But he can't swim through air to go save him - he's frozen, falling. Even now, he can see Matt's eyes in his head; inconsolable and maybe tear-ridden. It was difficult to be exactly sure since Edd also had to focus on the walls sliding upwards as he descended down further. Ringo's hair was standing up straight. Maybe that was from the fact that they were falling or maybe it was that he had been as terrified and nervous as his owner.

 

        Suddenly, they weren't falling. All at once, everything was still and Edd's green kicks on the ground. Looking up from the ground, his eyes met with Tord. They were back home - in their old home, not the new, lonely apartments. 

 

        "Edd? Helloooo?" A Norwegian accent cooed out, extending the last word. Edd was wearing his Smeg Head tee and Ringo sat, calm in his arms. 

 

        He didn't feel worried anymore, in fact, he felt like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders and his chest felt warm, as if he had just drank a mug of hot chocolate.

 

        "W-what?" he half-whispered, leaning in to make sure he was hearing right. For all he knew, Tord might as well have been saying 'your cat is shit and I killed Jon, whoops.'

 

        Well, maybe not exactly that, but still.

 

        Tord sighed endearingly but continued, "I asked if you'd ever tried cherry cola." Edd's eyes shot wide open. He remembered this. This happened before. This happened years ago. He nodded, not being able to contain the small smile making its way onto his face. "You have?" the caramel-haired Norwegian tilted his head in confusion and almost looked disappointed.

 

        "Yeah," Edd nodded and took a moment to relish in the familiarity of it all. This was the only way he could envision Tord - as a good person, as a friend. "But I'll try some again!"

 

        "It just made me think of us because--"

 

        "You like cherry red and I like cola." Edd finished, a nosalgic smile painitng his expression as he recited the words as if they had been of his favorite record.

 

        Tord looked surprised but nodded anyway. There had been a blush sprinkling his lightly freckled face and a cheesy grin tugging at his lips. Suddenly, he drew a deep breath, "Edd. . . I need to tell you something."

 

        Edd's green eyes brightened even more, if that was even feasibly possible. "What is it?"

 

        "I uh--," his expression grew soft and pink-ridden, but the atmosphere didn't quite match. Something was turning in Edd's stomach, nagging at him to leave. Still, with a lovey expression, Tord stuttered out a "You all meant nothing to me." The atmosphere mixed with the look on his face was like seeing a butterfly amongst corpses - it was disturbing and nightmarish to say the least.

 

        Edd stared at him wearily, still weighed down and could only dream that something bad was bound to happen. He looked at Tord and cradled Ringo to his chest protectively. Though, it was understandable with everything that has happened.

 

        Dream or not.

 

        Tord looked at him, before he smiled, grinning with that evil grin. "Edd. Just like old times..."

 

        Edd seemed to become lost in those eyes. Gone and in distress again. He couldn't look around but through his side vision, he saw things changing. The once comfortable house they had was soon destroyed once more, the building falling around him and capturing Tord and him in an in closed circle. Tord seemed perfectly calm. Perfect OK. Edd, on the other hand, was not. He was squeezing Ringo too tight. The cat bit him and jumped down and scattered from the house.

 

        Edd grabbed his hand tight, and looked for one second. One thousand milliseconds to look at his hand, to see if it weren't infected. And when he looked up, Tord was gone. Edd looked around wildly, his eyes bigger than what they already were. Bigger than his grin when he had first seen Tord.

 

        A hand became placed onto Edd's back, him tensing up. He glanced back at him nervously, stuttering ever so slightly, as he whispered, "T-Tord.. W-why...?"

 

        "Because who needs friends, when you have an army?" The Norwegian rose-blonde smiled as he glanced back, using his hand to cup Edd's face to look back behind him. Armies walking forward, all danced in red. And... What was that he saw..?

 

        A blue jacket stood out from the rest of them. His back was turned from Edd, and he wasn't marching. He looked miserable. Slouched over, following the crowd. His hair wasn't spiky, wasn't sitting up. But when he looked up, there was no doubt. Those big black hollow eyes, hiding every emotion there was to ever come. That frown that was always plastered onto his face, that dark brown hair. it was slouching over his face, it was hiding his eyes. It was hiding his pain. It was...

        "Tom!" Edd screeched into the night, sitting up in his bed with a cold sweat. He started panting loudly, placing a hand underneath him to help sturdy himself on his bed. His entire body was now cold and covered in a cold sweat; kicking the blankets off of the bed. He stood up, and started crying. His back curled up into himself, his hands covering his face. His face felt wet, it wasn't dry and he wasn't happy like he should've been. The pain that was growing in his heart was pulsing by double rate now. He had acted so happy when the crash had happened, but... In reality, it wasn't as easy as he made it seem.

 

        Everyone of them were dealing with it in their own ways. Edd was just trying to be happy, act as if nothing had happened, but... Since Tom had gone missing since the last month, everything had grown so much harder on Edd. What if Tom had committed suicide? What if he had tried to run away? What if...

 

        Edd didn't have an answer to any of his, "what if"s, because he didn't know. He had been getting horrible nightmares that had snapped him out of his sleep, that had caused everything to be much harder on him. He'd gotten several noise complaints from the owner of the apartments, due to him screaming and waking up in the middle of the night.

 

        And recently, he'd been picking up on Tom's old habits. He'd been drinking more and more, and wasn't really a fan of cola anymore. He had kept away from it; it brang back too many memories. Then again. Beer did, too.

 

        The worst thing, in Edd's mind, was that he was making Matt suffer. That he had to hide away all of his pain, all of his suffering. To keep Matt happy. Because Edd cared for Matt, he wanted him to safe and happy.

 

        Never to suffer like he did.

 

        Edd slowly laid back down. He had scared Ringo again by his sudden scream, the cat's tail was all poofed up and startled. He looked back at Edd before moving out of the bedroom.

        It was mid-day now. Edd was sitting at the table, sleep deprived with dark bags under his eyes. He was holding a can. It wasn't cola, no. But it was beer. He was slowly falling deeper and deeper into his depression, like he did in his dream when he didn't stop falling over and over again. Edd had his head in his arms, in which his hair was matted. He hadn't taken care of himself much. Everything was growing heavier and harder for him to function, and it was all because he missed him. Tom.

 

        Sure, he was such a little fucking bitch, but it was what made Tom, well, Tom! And Edd missed him. He missed that sarcastic and crappy alcoholic, the black-eyed man. The one that had always knew something was wrong before Edd and Matt could snese that it was, the only who always defended them. The one that always made sure that Matt and Edd were still something. Someone. He let them know. He let them know that they mattered.

 

        And now, it hurt so damn much. So fucking much that he was gone. Everyday, Edd would watch the apartment street, waiting for him to come home. Everyday, his hopes would be crushed, as if someone had just punched him in the gut. Every day, Matt had to watch him suffer and was too scared on doing anything.

 

        Everyday, the memories came back to haunt Edd. Everyday, the memories came back to hurt Edd. Everyday. And there was nothing he could do. So, what'd he turn to? Drinking. It seemed to work for Tom.

 

        Little did Edd know that he was wrong. Little did Edd know that Tom was always suffering and hiding his tears. Little did Edd know how sad Tom was. How little did Edd know that Tom had always had the guilt that Tord was dead, that he was gone from this world, and how Tom had always thought that he had murdered someone. Little did Edd know how much Tom had always been suffering, drank everything away, only to protect Edd and Matt, so it wasn't as hard.

 

        Little did poor little Edd know that Tom had placed all of the troubles onto himself, to sacrifice the others. Little did little Edd know that Tom suffered. Suffered so much. Little did he know anything in point. To think that one could feel such a close bond to someone and never know what's crawling in their skin and what's occupying their minds. And there would be no way of them knowing about the reasons they can't sleep in full detail because some emotions and reasoning cannot fully be explained as they are beyond comprehensions of everyone else besides you, maybe they are even incomprehensible to you in all truth. And Edd would never know understand any of that; Tom is gone, he might be a rotting corpse in a dumpster somewhere or in prison or maybe he gave up on Edd and Matt as a whole and was living a better life without them.

 

        So, as Edd sat here, suffering, in pain, he was knocked out of his sudden daze when he heard a loud knocking on his door. He attempted to stand up, but his legs were like jelly, so he came crashing to the floor, his eyes closing. Everything became black soon after.

        When Edd was woken, he was greeted by swerving and being pulled up by his jacket, as of in an attempt to wake him up. It was harsh and making him dizzy, uncomfortable. He couldn't hear anything, a loud buzz in his eyes as he slowly opened his eyes. He regretted that choice quickly, as the colors around him in his room of the apartment started flooding in. He squeezed them tight again, before opening them more slowly his time. The drumming in his ears didn't go away, but only came more intense as he seemed to gain consciousness.

   
        He looked around slowly, all of his movements delayed and slow. Where was he? Oh. That's right. In his kitchen, on the floor. He looked up, to be greeted by a handsome face. The face above him?

 

        Matt. Matt looked to be panicking, as Edd slowly closed his eyes again. He was tired.

        "Edd? Edd please, get up." Matt cooed softly, cupping his face as Edd's eyes closed again. He looked around, and looked at the table. Above the table, on the wall, hung a clock. He had been here for two hours, in the middle of crying, panic attacks, and pain for his friend. Matt slowly released his hand from underneath Edd's head, and stood up. He walked to the counter. There was a sink fullof water right there. He scooped some up in his hand and turned back towards Edd on the floor, and took some of his hand, before splattering it onto Edd.

 

        Edd let out a couch and he sat up straight with surprise, gasping loudly. Matt looked at him with worried eyes as Edd stared with him nervously, before Matt said softly, "Edd... What happened?"

 

        Edd looked down, he seemed to regain hearing again. His gaze slowly looked back up at Matt, his eyes hurt. He sighed softly before saying, "I-I don't... I don't remember..." He looked as if he was about to cry.

 

        Matt stared at him and cupped his cheek, their eyes connecting. "Edd.. Let me help yo-"

        Snap.

        "Matt, no! I don't need any fucking help!" He started trying to push Matt's hand away and stand up quickly, but he had no time.

 

        Matt didn't even think what he was doing, but he pulled Edd down, until their lips were connecting, and Matt fell on top of Edd as his back hit the floor. Edd seemed tense at first, before he seemed to loosen into the kiss. He slowly put his hands around Matt's neck, pulling the kiss farther. One of Edd's hands ran into Matt's hair, while their tongues locked into each other's mouths.

 

        They pulled away for a second, their eyes connecting as he breathed heavily, Matt on top of Edd. Their saliva connected, but split as it landed underneath Edd's mouth and stuck to his chin. Matt looked down at him, breathing softly.

 

        "Damn, Edd..." He murmured, cupping his face again. "You look so damn pretty underneath me when you squirm around like that..." He shook his head, trying to break out of the moment, but Edd refused to let him do so. He started grinding up against Matt, pulling him down and keeping them in their little position on the floor. Matt stared at him and laughed softly, before he muttered, "Be a good boy and maybe I'll let you have what you want later.." He buried his head into Edd's neck, brushing his hair back over his eyes.

 

        Edd let out a little whimper, but Matt pulled away and brought Edd onto his lap for him to sit. He rubbed his back in circles with his hand, allowing Edd to finally unwind in his lap. Matt put his head on top of Edd's. "Edd, you're going to get help whether you like it or not. Today, we're just going to focus on you, and get out of the house." He planted a kiss on his cheek. "Go take a shower and get dressed, I already did." He grabbed Edd's hand and walked him towards the bathroom.

 

        The two had been walking all over the city now. It was near night. Matt had sure made that Edd had had his special day, and now they were walking towards the ice cream shop, their hands in link, fingers intertwined and curled. They walked together carefully, never leaving each other's sides, as a smile danced on each of their faces. Edd had a toy bear stuck underneath his armpit, Matt and Edd swinging their hands happily as the duo moved along. They moved through the crowds as the sun was going down, it was honestly pretty late now.

        Even now, the heavy smell of alcohol occupied the air, courtesy of Edd's drinking; though Matt didn't seem to scrunch his nose at the smell half as often, a sign of him getting used to it. Edd stared down at their hands, admiring the contrast of their skin colors mashed together and how perfectly his hands fit into Matt's. Them two coming together was the only good thing in the aftermath of the 'incident'. 

        The ice cream parlor was in view by now and it almost brought disappointment to the brunet, thinking as how they would have to stop walking in sync for Matt to order for them. Maybe he would get bubble gum ice cream or something elaborate like that. Edd had lost his taste for trying new things so he himself planned on sticking to something like vanilla, though he didn't mind, he was just glad to be out with the tall blonde.

        Step.

 

        Step.

 

        Stop.

 

        Edd looked up as the two came to a sudden halt. His eyes left the sight of their shoes and met with a familiar blue. And red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAHHH LOOK WE ACTUALLY UPDATED!
> 
> Sorry for the long wait! I lost interest in this for a moment because I didn't have any outline for how the upcoming chapters would be. And then I began to watch Haikyuu and Free and aahhhh ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ
> 
> But I feel much more ready to write now! I had felt really insecure with my writing -and I still do tbh, lmao- but I realize that the only way for me to not feel insecure about it is to improve and the only way to improve is to write so yEEt
> 
> I ( Existence_Is_A_State_Of_Mind) wrote the beginning and end and Ash ( AshPuma) wrote the middle (✿´‿`) 


	8. Author's Note

Hey guys! AshPuma here with a little announcement!

We have a new ask blog on Tumblr you can ask the authors!

you can find it here:  
https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/wntfabwtcwo

thanks for the support!!!


	9. Important Author's Note and Q&A

Please, please, please, please PLEASE read this.  
This is an urgent note from AshPuma(aka the Co-Author of this story).

Wow. Okay. Hi there. It's been a while, huh? Well. This update wasn't really meant to be long and just to update you guys on some new things that we're doing, but this was something that has recently come to my attention. Not only that, but at the end there will be a(large) interview that I answered that you can read if you'd like! I suggest you do. It has some helpful information in there.

Anyways.

As of recently, if you don't follow Devin(the Author), he has lately been saying that he wants to deactivate/has to deactivate, and if he does, then that would mean that the story would be in my hands. And the updates would be even slower, because I am not fast with these types of things. Please send your love and support to Devin. He needs it. As a Co-Author, a friend, and as someone who truly cares for him, I don't want him going through this pain as of what's going to make him deactivate. At all. I don't know what's been going on recently, so I can honestly say that I have _no_ idea whatsoever what's wrong with him.

All I'm saying is show him your support, love, care, and show him that he matters. Because he really does, and I love him to death.

Another announcement about Devin, he most likely might not be here on Quotev for the entire summer, meaning that I will be monitoring his account and handling this story for us. He might be here on the summer unless it'd be impossible for him to be (it's literally impossible for him atm to be on at summer time). So I'd have to yet again handle things. I would like to request that you guys just comment on this story a whole bunch with lots of love for Devin, because he doesn't even know that I'm making this update.  
And that's OK. He deserves it anyways. <3

 

Moving on to the more exciting part of this Author's Note, Devin and I have been hard at work...  
But not on this story! That's right! We're going to be making another story and we've been working our asses off on it.  
It is going to be a multi-fandom book, but Eddsworld will still be in it(in total, there will be three fandoms. eddsworld, Tokyo ghoul... and, if you haven't been able to recognize by our matching profiles, Osomatsu-San!). There will be no spoilers and we still have a long way to go until this chapter is released, but I will however give you the description before diving into the Q&A.

* * *

TEASER/TRAILER:  
 "Welcome to Tokyo!" A woman called to the busy airport; Edd, Matt, and Tom had just gotten off of the plane and were looking around, a taken back from the sudden scenery. Tord was a little bit ahead, looking at the map of the airport.  
Why hadn't he known? Why hadn't Tom seen the fucking warnings and how dangerous Tokyo really was? He felt sick even thinking about it.  
How did he know he was supposed to live by the "code"? The "code" that the people ehre followed, the code that the ghouls were hated and discriminated by?  
It was a dark and stormy night when he found out the "code". When he was taken back to the Argori Tree; by Tord and the three brothers. Who knew a younger brother of sextuplets could be an SSS rated?  
Todomatsu was standing over him that night; hovering over him with a threatening glare that hovered long past Tom. Tom was shaking, his back slammed into the concrete wall behind him. He was gripping at his coat and shaking, horribly, badly, misberaly. He couldn't deal with this pressure - the two half ghouls behind him. A negitive energy, full of purple, and a positive energy, always smiling, always staring with small pupils, looking past something. Something even Tom couldn't hear or see, or even think about.  
Todomatsu was their leader. Ichimatsu's and Jyushimatu's. The brother's leader. An SSS rated ghoul. Right in front of him. And that's when he learned the code. DIFFERENT. 

Hang tight guys, because we're just as excited to release this story to you as we are writing it!

* * *

Q&A SECTION  
\- Answered by AshPuma -

Where do you get your ideas?  
\- I mostly get mine from works I'm inspired by (like fan art from a fandom, other stories, etc.), or Devin and I just have these random moments where we end up just shouting out ideas and gather up the best ones for a plot.

What is your writing process like?  
\- Mine, personally, is very messy. I don't really spend all that time on thinking on writing and I just jamble down what my mind is thinking at the time. This often leads to confusion and a lot of spelling errors. I try to focus mainly on the details to help lengthen the paragraphs, but I've also been trying to include more moments that people can draw or where you can understand their emotions that they're going through.  
\- Often times, Devin just ends up improving it x100%, which is why he make quite the duo for writing. This leads to a successful story like this, and just more ideas to go off of!

What advice do you have for writers?  
\- Well, for beginning authors, I by far suggest that you don't focus on how long it is. Try to focus on the grammar, detail, and help the reader(s) have a much better understanding as to what is going on. Try not to make your sentences bland and not make any sense whatsoever. Have fun with what you're doing and don't feel pressured into completing something on time on a certain date! We all have our own learning speeds and if you need to slow way down, then slow way down. Success will come.  
\- For intermediate writers, I suggest that you try to include more detail and flow in the sentences; try to impress the readers and make them hooked on as to what you're writing. Make sure to always use proper grammar and correct spacing. DO NOT RUSH IDEAS. If you feel rushed, then don't pressure yourself into writing. Yes, you're not a beginner, but you need to calm down and take your time. Try to pay a little bit more attention to the length of the paragraphs and focus a little bit more on the expressions of the characters and the details. Make sure that you have a sturdy background, so they're not just somewhere in the desert in the entire story.  
\- For expert/experienced writers, I really suggest that you try to focus more on the length. Always focus on how the character(s) are feeling, and include a strong feel in the emotions. Don't worry about how long the sentences are or how big the paragraphs are - with practice, a natural flow will come to bigger paragraphs. Really try to make a good hook to draw in the readers and make them stay. Use proper grammar and always provide details. Make sure what you're trying to explain is clear for the readers to see instead of confusing the reader with other objects in the story. Have a plot set out instead of just winging it; so that the reader can always come back and expect the story to stay in place and are ready to read right where they had left off. Otherwise, I don't think I have any other advice!

What is the first book that made you cry?  
\- Ah. The first book that made me cry, as personally a Warrior Cats book! The series are great and I really recommend them!

Does writing energize or exhaust you?  
\- Writing does both to me, really. While it's very exciting to plan out the ideas and get right into writing... Well, as time goes on and you get deeper into the writing, it does get tiring and you just kind of want to stop instead of picking it back up. Nonetheless, I love it anyways.

What are common traps for aspiring writers?  
\- Grammar. By far grammar. A lot of kids are trying to become writers and then they don't understand how to space correctly or spell certain words. And that's fine! They're still learning but they can always fix themselves as they grow and get more comfortable with writing.  
\- Having a clear plot. A lot of people just end up trying to wing it the majority of the time and don't really have a clear ending or what they want to do in their stories. Always have a beginning, middle, and end.

Does a big ego help or hurt writers?  
\- Honestly, both. It makes you feel proud about what you're doing and you think you're going to get all of these reads and that you will become the most popular person ever...! But, when you see you don't get as nearly as much likes, comments, or even reads on a story, that big ego just comes crashing down and it really throws a lot of potential writers away. The same thing happens with artists when they can't accept their own work and are too afraid to accept their work.

 

What is your writing Kryptonite?  
\- Long and thoughtful paragraphs. I always tend to try to rush through these things and just get it out of the way, without any planning whatsoever. Taking this story in my hands has been a big help and I have really learned how to slow down, focus on the detail more, and just become a better writer in general. That's still a HUGE problem for me though, and I often just really want to rush through the paragraphs and get a move on already.

Have you ever gotten reader’s block?  
\- Too many times. Yes.

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?  
\- Honestly, a little bit of both. I always hate copying off of ideas and instead try to branch into my own thought of things, of how I see things and how I like it. Of course, I know that their are fandoms, and of course I have to give to the readers what they're asking for, but hey! It's the good stuff.

Do you think someone could be a writer if they don’t feel emotions strongly?  
\- Yes. Anybody has the potential to do whatever they want - they just have to try. And never get discouraged if you don't like what you do at first. I'm sure you'll improve!

What other authors are you friends with, and how do they help you become a better writer?  
\- Devin is my main friend here ( thus why I;m making the interview in this book! ) that I can truly feel comfortable with writing and explaining my ideas and helping it make more sense. He often helps improve my ideas and make my writing flow more often, and just really come together. He's an awesome editor.

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?  
\- I wouldn't change anything. I've been writing since I was little and that was ten years ago I had started writing. I think if I hadn't started writing at that young of an age, I really wouldn't be where I am now.

How did publishing your first book change your process of writing?  
\- I got SUPER discouraged because no-one read it! They didn't help me with anything and so I kind of had to grow on my own. That helped me a lot, even if it was hard. Because it inspired me to truly keep going, no matter how bad it seems, or no matter how discouraged I really do get.

What do you owe the real people upon whom you base your characters?  
\- So much. I really do not think that we would be as successful with this book as he have gotten if it weren't for Eddsworld. Eddsworld already does have a pretty big fandom, but I'm glad that we could help grow that fandom and really contribute and be a part of it.

* * *

GOT ANY OTHER QUESTIONS FOR ME TO ANSWER? ASK ME IN THE COMMENTS!


	10. One Step Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tord is jelly yeah im not sorry xd

        Tom blinked and he paused, eyeing Edd. As if he was seeing the unreal, the imaginary. Like he couldn't believe his own eyes. He blinks and pauses, his throat suddenly so much more dryer than what it had just been with Tord next to him. Tom feels his lips go dry, feels Tord tense up next to him, in fact he _sees_ him tense up next to him; he'd never think of it being the day where he saw the rose hair tense up _visibly_.

        Edd's reaction is nearly the same. He seems like he can't believe his eyes, and he standing there, his hand attached to Matt's as he starts backing up. Tom notes how much more pale his face has become, how the bags under his eyes only seem to be so much more bigger. He seems as if he thinks he's asleep, and then Tom notices the little plushie that Edd's clutching and he looks at his other hand - grasping Matt's hand until each of his knuckles are a deathly white. They both seem to freeze in time as Tom's eyes widen slightly, Edd not speaking, Matt eyeing Tord with a betrayed look in his eyes. The tension is almost unbearable and both Edd and Tom feel like they're about to throw up.

        That's when _Matt_ , yeah, _Matt, of all people_ speaks. "Tord." He has a hand around Edd's shoulder, not even bothering to look at Tom. Was that _guilt_ in the ginger's eyes? Tom was too focused on Edd to notice.

        "Matt," Tord returns, a sly grin plastered onto his face as if this was the most comfortable he'd ever been. Like they were all back in Edd's old house, and suddenly the little aura Tord had once had with Tom seemed to break and shatter into little walls as Tom took a step forward, grabbing Edd, and Tord saw his entire world shatter. He blinks and stares at Tom, feeling his body tense. Like he can't stop anything what the black-eyes man is doing.

        What makes Tord come to is the realization that Edd _returns_ the hug, and suddenly the green and blue are crying together, both of sadness and happiness. They're here, they're back, they're together. All Tord can do is watch as Matt, too, backs up, even the dumb ginger understanding that they should have their own space.

        Oh God. What's this fire that's rising in Tord's chest? _He_ was supposed to be the only one that could see Tom cry, he was the only one that should be there for him. Him! He feels his chest burning, his heart in his ears and his breathing hitched and nervous. What was this feeling? What the fuck was this feelings? _What the_ hell _was this feeling?_

        Tord would never admit in a thousand years. He would never realize it. He would never see that during Tom's and Edd's own breakdown, that his whole world that was slowly beginning to build up with the back eyed man was just suddenly destroyed and removed and, well, _stolen_. And Tord would never admit it, he would never _see_ it as he feels himself walking forward and grabbing Tom, and pulling him back, much harsher than what he had ever meant to do; that Tord, yes, the Red Army leader, was _jealous_. This was his little special prize that he had delivered to him, that he had to rebuild his friendship with, so that he could be his. He would _never_ realize it in a thousand years as he chews on his lip, a new fire in his eyes as he stares at Edd out of the corner of his eyes as he started to turn away, still clutching Tom harder than he would ever had meant to, as he realizes.

        _Tom is his. And his only._

        Which meant that Tord would just have to steal him from Edd. Edd was blindly walking forward, crying and in so much pain in his pure heart that he just _dove_ for Tom, who pulled himself out of Tord's grip, and caught him.

        It all happened too fast. And to say the least, Tord wasn't pissed. No. He was _raged_. Yet his legs wouldn't move again as he backed up into the wall behind him, as he paused and stared, watching and his breathing hitching again.

        Edd and Tom were kissing. It wasn't an angry, bashful kiss like him and Tord had shared, no, it was meaningful and happy, and they were clutching onto each other like their lives depended on it. And Tord couldn't do anything, even when Matt eyes him and started moving to start pushing them opposite of where the rose haired, the Red Army leader, the Norwegian was. And Tord just stood there and watched, as his prize was taken from him.

        It all happened so fast. He was clutching his heart, as if the beating in his chest was hurting him. Tord felt himself slide down the wall and look into the sky, his breath shaking. How pathetic. If Edd wanted to play that game, he'd get a game to play.

        As soon as Tord recovered, of course.

* * *

        Long after the sun had settled behind the town and the shade of it at all was gone, Tord found himself walking down the street back to his base, but not entirely forgetting that kiss. It was so meaningful, it had to much more definition than what he would've ever gotten with Tom. He eyes his watch warily, narrowing his eyes at how late it is before he shakes his head, attempting to clear his thumping head - assuming he has a migraine - with shallow breaths. He had long since evened his breathing and gained his thoughts back together into one big pile, and he's now cracking his hands and fingers as he stares forward.

        His own laugh surprises him and how a shit eating grin is now plastered onto his face, and he leans onto the wall for support. He's hiding the pain he has with laughter, but he's also crying of laughter. Ah. Edd could be so clever sometimes, and Tord would admit, he loved fighting for what was his. Tom was by far his now. He wouldn't mind fighting to having to keep him.

        He pushes himself off the wall, the glow in his eyes burning as bright as the sun that was once there in the day, hanging in the sky.

        If Edd wanted a game.

        He got a game.

        One that Tord's willing to play.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: my boyos. i'm back! and yes to answer your questions, yes, devin has left this work. it is just currently me right now. no worries, this is just a teaser for the next chapter, which is why it's rather short.
> 
> going back to eddsworld, it's not a fandom i'm even proud to be in. you can blame the immature kids that are in the fandom. /shrug i did, however, promise myself that i am going to and will finish this. i met devin from this, and we've both grown in writing and something that was once fun that did pull us a while for a bit is always coming back to have it's toll! so yes, it's just one author now ( @AshPuma ).
> 
> that means that updates could happen possibly faster, or longer. it depends on my schedule, specifically since my high-school is getting busier and busier.
> 
> how ever.
> 
> like i said. i am going to finish this one way or another, and you might see an entire different way of writing! and that's okay.
> 
> anyways, like i said! this will be finished one way or another and i'm quite happily to finish this and get it out of the way. i really am going to be happy to finish this.
> 
> i apologize for the MAJOR lack of updates! i'm going to get on that however.
> 
> want to see some of your ideas in this? maybe an oc? submit some ideas for the future! (:


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